After the Storm
by Frogboy Lives
Summary: Companion piece to Checkmate. JI Ficlet.


**After the Storm**  
  
_~**Disclaimer-** They belong to JJ Abrams, I am not JJ, therefore they aren't mine. QED~  
  
**A/N-**This piece is a follow-up to _**Checkmate,**_ you don't have to read it for it to make sense, but I'd like you to.  
  
As always, any form of feedback is welcome._  
  


* * *

  
The air was chill, oppressive, stygian clouds filled the sky, obscuring the sun. In the absence of the usual visual and sensory clues, the woman had no way of how long she had been wandering in the dusk-like atmosphere. She could have checked her watch, of course, but the watch had been a gift, and she did not want to think of the giver.  
  
Scuffing her feet through the damp leaves carpeting the parks walkways, hands buried deep in the pockets of her thick sheepskin coat, her downcast head shot up at the sharp cracking sound of a twig breaking. Seeing the chipmunk bounding along a tree branch, she forced herself to relax, an inner voice chiding her tension. She had nothing to be tense about, or at least "Laura" didn't. The corner of her mind still called Irina, the part that refused to let itself be buried, on the other hand...  
  
Unbidden, the hours old conversation replayed itself.  
  
_"How long have these attacks been occurring?" the voice was calm, reassuring, professional.  
  
"Not long, maybe two, two and-a-half months."  
  
"I see," a notation on the thick pad, a noncommittal noise, "have you been sleeping regularly?"  
  
"Yes, fine." a slight sharpness there, but then, she had never been a very good patient.  
  
"Any recent changes in diet?"  
  
"No. Are these questions really necessary?"  
  
A gentle smile, "I'm afraid so. We'll be finished soon, we just have to do a quick blood work-up."_  
  
She supposed the doctor would take her stunned reaction for simple surprise, her request for silence merely a desire to break the news herself. However, she reflected, his thoughts and opinions didn't matter as much as those of others, others whose reactions would be swift and predicable. They would give her orders, tell her to "take care of it", make arrangements. Surprisingly, the depth of "Laura's" fury upon contemplating these as yet ungiven orders was not only matched but surpassed by Irina's. An expression more appropriate to a she-wolf broke out on her features as the clouds burst. Heavy raindrops struck the ground as she started back.  
~~~  
Rain had turned to sleet by the time she reached the house. Standing under the porch, Jack rushed into the storm. "Where were you?" he yelled concernedly.  
  
"I went for a walk," she shook her head like a dog, prior to entering the house. "I must've lost track of the time."  
  
"I was worried about you." Helping her out of the half-soaked jacket, he took the opportunity to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. "That storm looks like its going to get worse before it get better."  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that storms make me..." an involuntary grin crept across her lips, "...restless."  
  
"Do they?" Jack whispered as he nuzzled the side of her neck, "I remember what happened last time you were _restless_ during a storm."  
  
"Hoping for an en-" She broke off suddenly as her belly roiled and she tasted bile in the back of her throat, with a strangled sound, she bolted for the kitchen.  
  
Leaning over the sink, she retched. After her stomach was emptied of it's minimal contents, she swashed water around in her mouth and spat, trying to rinse out the sour aftertaste.  
  
"Here, let me." After carefully gathering the loose strands of hair back, Jack took a damp dishcloth and started sponging her face, worry evident in his voice he continued, "You've been ill a lot recently, have you thought about having a checkup."  
  
She leaned her forehead against his breastbone, gently Jack started rubbing her back in wide steady circles. "I went earlier today." Glad he couldn't see her expression, she bit her lower lip, struck by a sudden case of nerves.  
  
"And?" The hands paused, resting on her shoulders. "Laura, was there something wrong?"  
  
"No, apart from being a bit run-down, I'm perfectly healthy," she paused, there was no going back from this, "for a woman near the end of the first trimester, that is."  
  
"First trimester?" squeaked Jack. He pulled back slightly, allowing her to see the flabbergasted expression on his face. "As in pregnant?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're pregnant?" A small voice in the back of her mind remarked that he really was cute when he looked like he'd just been hit on the back of the head with a shovel.  
  
"Nearly three months, according to the doctor." The corners of her mouth twitched with suppressed mirth.  
  
Jack just stood there silent for several seconds, then without warning, he let out a wild whoop and kissed her full on the mouth. She let out an indignant yelp as he swept for off her feet and swung her around.  
  
"Jonathan Donahue Bristow! Put me down this instant, before you break-" A loud metallic crash as her foot clipped something on the kitchen bench rendered her point moot.  
  
Looking in the direction of the clatter, Jack commented "There goes the toaster." He met her eyes with a look of total innocence, several seconds later they both dissolved into giggles.  
  
Sobering slightly, he cupped the back of her head, smiling broadly. "I love you."  
~~~  
Later that night, as he slept, Irina regarded Jack. The smile which had remained plastered to his lips all evening lingered still. Devoid of the intense, earnest expression he usually wore, asleep he looked younger, more boyish. His head rested on one arm, the other lay protectively on her lower abdomen. Moving carefully, she eased it off as she got up so as not to disturb him. Unable to resist the impulse to run her fingers through his tousled curls, she heard him mutter in his sleep "Don't deserve you."  
  
"No, you don't." she murmured softly, as she went to sift through his briefcase.  



End file.
